The path to victory
by avidfan
Summary: Albus Dumbledore has many enemies, he knows this. Over the years he has prepared himself against them, keeping himself safe...but what happens when his most determined and most dangerous enemy gets too close. Who will help him?


Here I am, standing just on the outer skirts of the circle, surrounded by my brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts and uncles. Each of them are standing around the large circle, ready and prepared for what is about to happen. All of them thrilled and excited, except me.

It had all been set up, ready for this moment. A moment my mother had been planning since she lost her husband and her children's father forever to Nurmengard. This entrapment had been set up over a year ago now, ready and waiting to ensnare its one and only intended victim. Deep in the heart of the forbidden forest they had all been waiting for me to bring them their prize. Through treachery, cunning and deceit, I have been able to do what had to be done. My task had been simple. "Bring the bastard out and into the forest alone and unsuspecting, you got that Gellert". That was what my mother has been ordering me to do ever since I got accepted into Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to "bring the bastard out", and I have. Right in the centre of the circle, breathing hard, shaking with repetitive wave after wave of the cruciatus curse was our intended victim. I look down upon him, watching how he struggles to breathe, now bent over, holding himself in agony, and I find myself feeling remorseful.

It is strange, for years, like all the rest of my family I have sort retribution against this man. I have wanted him to pay for what he took from us, from me. I've wanted to be the one to hit him with the final blow that would end his life and bring back some peace to us, but for awhile now, I've not been so sure. It was amazing that I even managed to bring him here in the first place. It was almost like I wasn't aware there was a murderous group of people waiting to torture and kill him the moment we got deep enough. Even though I knew my family were waiting behind the dark trees and within the overgrown roots, it was still surprising when they all jumped out and attacked him. "Well done Gellert", was the praise I received from my family after they had managed to subdue him. He had looked up at me then, our intended victim I mean, and I could see the disappointment and betrayal in his eyes. It made me feel sick.

Throughout my few years at Hogwarts, he had helped me to realise much about myself I did not know, and I was able to develop friendships and be able to interact with people who I wasn't related to. You see, I had been home schooled all my life, tucked away with my family, away from civilisation, away from the world. This is until just after my 13th birthday, my mother had finalised her brilliant revenge plot and had placed me right at the centre of it. I remember the day she pulled me aside and told me what she wanted me to do. "Now when you get in, DO NOT socialise with the scum, do you understand!, Keep clear of them, just do as you're told, follow the plan and you can be back here with us in no time". I Tried my best to do what she asked, I kept away from the "scum", kept to myself and kept to the plan. But it didn't work. Over the years, I made friends, I learnt much about the world and I longed to be a part of it.

I began to realise that there is a lot more to the world than family and revenge, and I was encouraged to believe that I could make a difference, that I could be accepted. I would not have all this if it wasn't for this man admitting me into his school, accepting me and helping me to believe in something more. But now it was too late. I had my chance to turn back, to choose him over my family, to live life free from my repressive family and do what was right. From this moment on, I will have to live with what I've done, with what I'm about to do. "Go on Gellert, your turn, do it", came a cold voice from my side. The heartless encouragement suddenly became a chant, "do it, do it, do it", but I could barely hear it. I was too preoccupied with the bright blue eyes of our victim, filled with pain, pleading with me. I could feel everyone's eyes on me as I stepped forward. Shaking, I raised my wand, pointing it directly at the tortured old man. I felt horrified to know that at 15 years old I was about to help my family kill my headmaster.


End file.
